Harry the Potter
by WitlessWriter7
Summary: Harry acquires a new hobby. So does Draco Malfoy. How can two enemies occupy the same sphere of interest?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't believe anyone would believe if I said Harry Potter did belong to me, so therefore, I don't Harry Potter of any other of J. K. Rowling's characters, world, ideas etc.

Chapter 1

Harry sat in his favorite garnet, antiquated armchair, gazing into the library fireplace at Grimmauld place. The velvet fabric was almost worn through in places, likely due to his habit of sitting with his shoe-encased feet tucked beneath him. His head rested in his cupped hand as he let out a long sigh. Currently, only one leg rested beneath him. The other kicked rhythmically, as if to mark the passing of the moments like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

It was a cool night at the beginning of the summer before he started his auror training, and the cold, damp of the old townhouse seeped into Harry's bones and chilled him. The house was always preternaturally cold, as if the unhappiness and sorrows of its previous residents sunk into its very foundations and shaped its melancholic character.

It had been a long time since he had felt this alone. At Hogwarts, he was always surrounded by a boisterous group of boys in the dorms. During the summers at the Burrow, there had always been the clatter of dishes, the rumble of feet across the wooden boards, the occasional explosion in the twins' room followed by a raucous laugh, and the warm grin of a red-haired friend. Even at Privet Drive he could hear the boom of Vernon's voice, the shrill titter of his aunt's, and the indistinct murmur of Dudley's telly. Here, there was only the crackle of logs burning in the fire and the chirping of his tawny owl, Morgana.

He had finally given in and gotten a new one, as his group of friends had disbanded in the aftermath of the last battle, and communication was easiest done by post. When he first walked into Eeylops Owl Emporium, his eye was immediately drawn to a snowy, white owl. His eyes had pricked with tears, and he turned instead to Morgana with her cinnamon feathers accented with cream. She was perched away from the other owls, her gaze following the path a daring, young mouse had traced in the dusty floor. Currently, she was ruffling her feathers and occasionally peering at Harry with her head cocked to the side, as if to say, "What are you doing?"

"I don't know, Morgana!" Harry retorted, a little harsher than he meant to. She flew from her perch in a flutter of feathers and landed on an end table, her back pointedly towards him.

Harry exhaled slowly, "I'm sorry, girl. I'm just frustrated. Ginny's in Switzerland on some training exercise with the Harpies—something about experience flying at high altitudes. She said we'd talk about "us" when she gets back. And it's a little tense at the Burrow at the moment; I don't want to intrude."

Morgana turned around slowly and offered her leg.

"You're right. I should write them," Harry grabbed a scrap of parchment and scrawled a short message. Harry ruffled her head as he attached the missive. Morgana flew off into the dark of the night, leaving Harry completely alone. He left the window open, waiting for her return. The smell of fresh cut grass drifted in on the summer breeze.

A short while later, Hermione's head popped through his grate in a burst of green flames.

"Really, Harry? You're bored? Honestly, you don't write for a week and that's what you send? How am I even supposed to respond to that?" she huffed.

"There's nothing to do Hermione," Harry whined, "What do wizards do when there's no school and no dark wizard to fight?"

"The same as muggles, I suppose," Hermione mused, "Spend time with their friends, read books, do hobbies. Perhaps you should take up a hobby."

"Are you really suggesting I take up stamp collecting or making model trains?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm sure there's plenty of interesting things to do. I'll get you a book of hobbies next time I'm at Flourish and Blotts."

"That's not necessarily. Why don't you and Ron come by tomorrow? In fact, I'll invite everybody. Neville, Luna, the Parvatis, Lavender, Seamus, Dean, George, Angelina, Lee, Alicia, Oliver, Katie. That's an even number of males and females so everyone can pair off and snog when they get drunk," Harry laughed, ticking off his fingers (and several toes) as he named them.

Hermione raised her eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, "That won't work, you know. Dean and Seamus are together."

"Well I know they live together, but that doesn't mean they have to spend every bleeding moment attached at the hip," Harry frowned.

"More like at the lips," she said in a low timber, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Anyways, I'm sure Ron and I will love to come. I'll see you tomorrow then, round 7?"

"Sounds good. I'll have Morgana let everyone know when she comes back," Harry called after Hermione's retreating head.

Harry eased back in his chair and started thinking of everything he had to do to get ready. When Morgana came back, he went over to his desk and wrote out the notes inviting everyone over and sealed them in the red envelopes he found stacked under some sticks of sealing wax.

"Can you send these out in the morning?" Harry asked.

Morgana hooted in agreement.

"Thank you. Good night, Morgie."

She ruffled her feathers and nipped at his fingers.

"Okay, we'll work on the nickname," Harry chuckled, headed up the stairs to his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I couldn't come up with so complete a world as the Harry Potter universe, but I gratefully play with it.

Chapter 2

"Hermione, for the last time, I didn't know they were Howlers! I just saw some envelopes and used them. Why would you leave a bunch of Howlers here anyway?" Harry griped.

"I told you! You promised you would help me send Howlers to those wretches ignoring my creature rights proposals! I made a conscious point to—" she trailed off as she noticed George standing alone by the punch bowl, his hands suspiciously empty of vials or powders.

"You guys stay here. I'm going to go see if George needs anything, "she said, patting Ron's arm as she walked away.

"Don't worry about it Harry. She's not actually mad. I think I even saw her crack a smile. And _**I**_ thought it was a riot. We saw this red envelope and thought it would be some old fart getting mad about losing his house elf and instead it just goes 'SOCIAL GATHERING AT 12 GRIMMAULD PLACE TONIGHT! BE THERE AT 7!'" Ron guffawed.

Luna drifted over and added, "I thought it was quite lovely. My ceramics class found it highly amusing. They all wanted to know if they were invited since everyone heard it, but I know you like your privacy."

Hermione returned at this point, "Don't worry about George, I got him and Angelina talking. I didn't know you taught ceramics, Luna. You know, Harry, that could be just the thing for you. Why don't you go to her classes?"

"I..er..uh…"

"That'd be wonderful Harry!" Luna exclaimed, "I'd love for you to come. I can make some granatus afterwards, I found a really cool recipe in a medieval codex I was reading—it's supposed to enhance creativity, and we can catch up.

Harry looked at Ron and Ron shrugged, "That sounds great Luna. What time should I be there?"

"I'll send you a Howler with the schedule." Luna said straight-faced.

"That's…er…not necessary." Harry said with his brows drawn, and his head cocked to the side.

Luna let out a tinkling laugh, "I wasn't being serious, silly. It's be pretty inconvenient for the schedule to rip itself up and turn into a puff of smoke don't you think? It's Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 10 am."

Once assured that Luna was joking, Harry smiled back at her, "Great, I'll be there. Pottery sounds like it could be fun."

George, who had apparently been listening in—you never know when Extendable Ears™ are going to come in handy—came up and put his arms around Harry and Ron, "Hey Hermione," he said, "what's that word for someone who plays with clay?"

"You mean a potter?" she responded, ever eager to help provide a useful piece of information.

"Yeah, that's it!" George grinned, "So Potter, did I hear you're going to be a potter?"

"Harry the Potter!" Ron whooped, "That's brilliant George! Harry, you should be a potter instead of an auror! It's got a better ring. Harry the Potter, Harry the Auror," Ron pantomimed weighing the options on a scale.

Harry laughed, "You've got a point. I should definitely choose my career based on which one's name I can make a joke with."

"Well you know, Harry, last names used to be based on your profession. So really, pottery could be a traditional profession in your family." Hermione lectured, one corner of her mouth twitching up slightly and her pecan eyes sparkling.

At that moment, Lavender burst into the room covering her eyes in an exaggerated manner, "Oh my eyes! They burn! I've just seen something terrible!"

Seamus and Dean stumbled into the room after her, their clothes rumpled, misbuttoned, and untucked. Seamus was struggling to finish pulling his pants up, while also walking. The front of his hair stood straight up, while the rest stuck out in all directions. Dean was breathing heavily and shouted loudly, "Shut it! And it was not terrible!"

"Yeah!" Seamus interjected, trying to smooth down his hair, "You're lucky to see such a magnificent sight!"

Lavender dissolved into a fit of giggles, while Harry stared, scratching his head, perplexed.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I tried to tell you yesterday, Dean and Seamus are _together_. Like a couple," on seeing Harry's furrowed brow Hermione added, "Like Ron and me."

"No, I get that. But where were they? I thought I charmed all the bedrooms to keep couples out."

Suddenly, Padma screeched, "Sex! In the library! Thought you should know," and sank to the floor, her hand covering her forehead, palm out. George, Patil, and Lavender started tittering, choking with laughter. Every so often one would raise up, press a hand to their chest, breathing deeply… and would double over again giggling.

Harry groaned and placed his forehead in his hand, "Not my chair! I bet they did it in my chair!"

Ron patted his back sympathetically, "Cheer up, mate. At least you have something to keep your mind off it." He pointed at the increasing number of flashes of green flame, as more people flooed in.

Harry groaned as he started seeing faces he didn't recognize popping in through his fireplace. Neville materialized and hurried over to Harry, wringing his hands as if grasping for a lifeline," Harry! I-I meant t-to…er…owl you. I was at the Slug and Jiggers, selling them some botanical ingredients, when I got your Howler. I think everyone in Diagon Alley heard it and thought it was a broad invite. I'm so sorry." His eyes gleamed like they were about to fill with tears.

Harry laid his hand on Neville's back, and gazed into Neville's eyes, trying to convey a sympathetic message, "It's okay, Neville. It wasn't your fault. I'm the bugger who accidentally sent out Howlers to everybody. It seemed that sympathetic back pats were becoming increasingly needed.

Harry managed to round up all the strangers and send them on their way, with Hermione's help, of course. A few stragglers that they knew could stay like Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Only Harry would manage to accidentally throw the bash of the year, when he only had intentions of an intimate social gathering. When it had finally quieted down, Harry threw himself on the red velvet couch and let out a shuddering breath. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over at Hermione who threw herself down beside him.

"This should keep you from being bored for a while, right, Harry?" she joked half-heartedly.

"Definitely."

Ron plopped down between them and rested his arms along the back of the couch, "I don't think they knew it was your place, Harry."

He blew a sweaty strand of hair out of his eyes, and continued, "Although, I did catch one person trying to take some hairs off the jumper you took off. Don't worry though, I got them back." He held out his hand to Harry, a few, dark hairs resting in his palm. Harry chuckled.

"You keep them. I don't really have a use for them anymore."

Harry looked around his home. Now that it was filled with laughing voices and warm smiles, it didn't feel so cold anymore. Luna and Neville were talking quietly in a corner, their gazes intertwined. Oliver and Angelina were loudly debating the finer points of an obscure Quidditch move, while George observed, grinning, hearing the discussion, but enjoying the fierce expressions on Angelina's face more than exchange of opinions. Dean and Seamus had disappeared again, and the rest were engaged in a rousing game of never-have-I-ever. Harry smiled, finding the happiness of those around him contagious, and signalled to Ron and Hermione that they should join the game.


End file.
